Edwina Reizer

The Long Cold Winter

When every leaf has left the treeand all is bleak and cold, along comes winter's brittle stickswith stories all untoldof snow and icicles drippinglike tears that weep from eaves, of winds and storms a-grippingat the heart of man that grieves.

'Thou can't be here to chill my bonesand think nothing about it.'And winter answers a sly retort, ' I can. And don't you doubt it.'When the heart of man comes to termswith what he must endure, he settles down and stays insidewith a cup of tea to pour.